


"I Wish Someone Would Take Care of Me"

by between_two_lungs



Category: Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-02-23 12:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23811526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/between_two_lungs/pseuds/between_two_lungs
Summary: While Ross Poldark is away in London, Demelza daydreams about being with Dwight Enys, the handsome, kind doctor in Cornwall. Perhaps her daydream isn't just a daydream after all.
Relationships: Demelza Carne/Dwight Enys
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

The fire crackled and flickered streaks of light on Demelza's face as she knelt by the fire. She closed her eyes and breathed in the smoky air, mingled with the scent of freshly baked bread that Prudie was cutting in the kitchen. Demelza watched the flames engulf the wooden logs in the fireplace, slowly crumbling ash.

Quietly behind her, Dwight Enys laid his warm hand on her shoulder and slowly drifted his fingers along the curve up to her neck.

Ross will see Elizabeth in London, no doubt, thought Demelza. The dark, curly-haired Poldark had been in London since last November. There were bills to propose, justice to be served in Parliament. Or so, that’s what Ross said. 

Fall had transitioned into a cold, dreary winter with no husband to whisper to at night. Now, the earliest spring blooms were beginning to appear, and Demelza felt the absence of Ross strain her. 

Dwight was a good man. He was the caretaker of every miner and their families in Cornwall. Despite his own loss and pain, his smile comforted Demelza on her weariest days. 

His fingers trickled across her shoulder, neck, and entangled themselves in her hair. He gently buried his face in her neck, raising goosebumps on her body. 

Where is Ross?   
Why did he really leave?   
Will he be back?

“Demelza.”

She was no longer entranced by her dangerous reverie. Demelza looked away from the fire at Dwight, who was joining her, Prudie, and the children for dinner. 

“Yes?”

“I think Prudie is ready for us.” Dwight smiled surreptitiously, as if he were a school boy who didn’t want to get caught for expressing too much emotion.

Demelza turned back to the fire and stared into the blazing embers. As if her premonition was unfolding, Dwight silently drifted toward her and laid his hand on her shoulder.

Except she grabbed his hand this time instead.


	2. "The Crimson Rose of Cornwall"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demelza and Dwight sneak off for a secret tryst, leaving Ross and Caroline to wonder where they are.

A single red curl fell down her cheek, and Dwight gently moved it. Demelza's sky-blue eyes searched his own. Dwight couldn't read her thoughts, and she couldn't read his. All they could feel was the quickening of their heartbeats. 

Dwight had brought a book of poetry by John Donne with him as he met Demelza by the Cornwall beach around dusk. The book laid open between them, pages unturned.

"My face is thine eye. . .," Dwight read moments ago.

Demelza raised her hand, shaking, toward him. His clean-shaven face was smooth and warm. Her hand didn't shake anymore. 

". . .Thine in mine appears. . ." 

Dwight then embraced Demelza's face, as the wind blew her fiery red curls in the breeze. She looked beautiful, incandescent. 

". . .And true plain hearts do in the faces rest. . ."

Demelza, whose lips were trembling, moved toward Dwight and halted. The waves crashed below them, expressing the wild emotion that each felt. 

"Please," whispered Dwight, who began to shed a tear. 

". . .Where can we find two better hemispheres. . ."

Her lips met his, bursting with passion once they embraced. Dwight grabbed her head and kissed harder as Demelza climbed on top of him. The seagulls swirled overhead as the waves continued to crash.

". . .Without sharp north, without declining west?. . ."

Demelza took Dwight's hand and put it over her heart. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. 

". . .Whatever dies, was not mixed equally. . ."

Demelza stared into Dwight's eyes as he moved her hand underneath his jacket, shirt––

". . .If our two loves be one, or, thou and I. . ."

They were became entwined on the sands of the beach and amid the roar of the waves. 

". . .Love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die."

Demelza drew Dwight to her as they laid among the grasses and listened to the ocean. Dwight, after casting aside the poem, "The Good Morrow," laid beside Demelza. Their heartbeats now had the same rhythm, same sound. Their fingers found the other and gently embraced. 

They weren't sure what the next morrow would bring, but they had this heartbeat, this spare moment of time.


End file.
